


The Death Of Lord Voldemort

by velvetjinx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: Harry is ready to battle Voldemort for the final time. He doesn't count on a pair of demon hunting muggles to turn up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One from the archives! And when I say "archives" I mean from 2007. Yikes.

The cemetery was nearly silent as Harry opened his eyes and stood, trying to get his bearings. A sudden, familiar laugh had him whipping around; he tried not to shake as he saw Voldemort standing close by. He had trained for this; he was ready. He grasped his wand and looked Tom Riddle in the eye. 

‘You’ve grown so much since our last meeting,’ Voldemort mocked. ‘Think you’re a man, now, do you? Think you can face me? _Kill_ me?’ Harry gritted his teeth, refusing to let Voldemort goad him. ‘Well, boy?’

‘I _will_ kill you,’ he spat, and Voldemort laughed. 

‘Do you really think so? I don’t think you understand the-’ A snap to Harry’s left distracted them, and both he and Voldemort stared as two young men made their way over, shotguns slung over their shoulders.

‘Who are you?’ Voldemort hissed at the interlopers.

The shorter one grinned, showing off his white teeth. ‘Name’s Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sammy,’ he stated in a strong American accent. The taller man muttered something under his breath which Harry thought sounded like, ‘It’s _Sam_ ,’ but no-one paid any attention. ‘We heard there was some kinda evil snaky son-of-a-bitch we might be able to help take care of, and I’m guessing you’re him.’

‘My name,’ Voldemort sounded incensed, ‘is Lord Voldemort.’

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Dean waved a dismissive hand, and Harry wasn’t sure that he was imagining the smoke escaping Voldemort’s ears. He half turned towards Harry, as if noticing him for the first time. ‘And who are you, kid?’

‘Um, Harry Potter?’ The blank look Dean gave him was gratifying, if a little disconcerting. They must be Muggles. ‘I’m supposed to fight him.’

Dean laughed, and Harry saw Sam trying to hide a smile. ‘Kid, you don’t look older’n sixteen.’

‘I’m almost eighteen,’ he said, sulkily.

‘Whatever.’ Dean walked up to Voldemort until they were standing nose to nose, and Harry held his breath. He gave Dean five seconds before Voldemort Avada’d him. Maybe six. ‘So, you’re the son-of-a-bitch who’s trying to take over the world, right?’

‘How dare you, filthy Muggle!’ Voldemort sneered, before raising his wand. ‘Avada-‘

‘The hell is this?’ Dean snorted, plucking the wand from Voldemort’s hand. Harry would have laughed at the look on the Dark Lord’s face if he hadn’t been in shock. ‘You gonna bash me over the head with this thing? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, man, thing is _little_.’

‘It’s eleven inches!’ Voldemort spluttered indignantly. ‘Now I demand that you give it back!’

Dean shrugged. ‘Nah, I don’t think so. In fact, you could have someone’s eye out with this thing.’ He broke it over his knee, ignoring the squawking noise Voldemort made, and grinned. ‘Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.’ He raised his shotgun. ‘Eat this, bitch.’ 

A shot rang out, and Harry saw Voldemort go flying flat on his back. 

‘Well, shit,’ Dean said, and Harry and Sam both ran up beside him.

‘What’s wrong?’ Harry asked.

‘Son-of-a-bitch is immune to rock salt. I thought you said he was a ghost, Sammy?’

‘Well, that’s what I was told, but obviously…’

‘Hold on a minute. What?’ The two Americans turned to look at Harry. ‘He’s not a ghost. He was, but then one of his followers did a ritual that made him corporeal.’

‘Oh.’ Dean looked pissed off. ‘Then what the hell do we do now?’

Sam shrugged. ‘I dunno, figure since he’s corporeal a beheading’ll work?’

Dean clapped him on the back. ‘Sounds good. You wanna go get a machete?’

‘Um, guys? You can use this, if you want.’ 

Dean and Sam’s eyes widened as they took in the sword of Gryffindor. ‘What’s a kid like you doing with a sword like that?’ Dean breathed.

‘Um, supposed to be getting rid of _him_.’

‘Oh.’ There was an uncomfortable silence. ‘You wanna do it now?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t really feel comfortable killing him now he’s not armed.’

‘Want us to do it? If folks are expecting you to kill this guy you can take the credit.’

‘That hardly seems fair…’

Sam laughed. ‘It’s cool, dude. We’re just in it to get rid of evil.’

Dean nodded. ‘And for the chicks.’

Harry blinked. ‘Oh, okay.’ Dean smiled and took the sword from him, before going over and chopping off Voldemort’s head where he lay. There was an awful screeching sound which had all three of them covering their ears, before the cemetery fell silent again. 

‘Okay, all we need to do now is burn and salt the body, and we’re done,’ Dean grinned. 

Ten minutes later, they were done. Harry stared at the ashes of his enemy and felt slightly empty. ‘Well, I suppose that’s that, then.’

‘Yup. Shouldn’t give you any more trouble from here on.’

Harry stuck out his hand. ‘Thanks, guys, for everything.’

They both shook his hand, grinning. ‘Not a problem, kid.’ Dean said, winking at him before heading off with Sam out of the cemetery. Harry picked up the sword and the broken pieces of Voldemort’s wand before Apparating back to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione met him at the gate, tears in their eyes.

‘Is it over? Is he dead?’ Ron asked.

Harry nodded. ‘All over.’

‘What was it like?’ 

Harry looked at Hermione, pondering the question. ‘Anti-climactic,’ he answered, before heading up towards the castle. It had been a really weird day and, frankly, all he wanted to do was sleep before he was bombarded with questions. Plus he had to get his story straight about how Voldemort had died and, remembering what Dean had said about the chicks, decided that he had to sound as heroic as possible. He grinned to himself. Oh yes, this would be _fun_.


End file.
